Trouble with BloodAJ Robinson

Many people have don’t like the sight of blood. I remember good old Col. Blake in the “M*A*S*H” television show saying how he could paint a barn with someone else’s blood, he just didn’t want to see his own. Myself, it’s never bothered me.

In fact, I’ve always been rather fascinated by the sight of blood. Maybe that’s why I did so well at donating it, despite not liking the needle, but that’s another story, one that I’ve already written.

My wife says that my interest in blood is why I’m so good at vampire stories. Again, another story for another time, but you can always check it out on Amazon.

Man, I’m doing quite the commercials for myself today, aren’t I?

I digress. Just the other night, we got a call from a dear friend. It was very late, after midnight. We knew something was up.

As it turned out, her cat had literally slashed the palm of her hand open. Our friend was bleeding bad She was beside herself with concern; what to do. Ah, but that wasn’t all. You see, she lives with her boyfriend and he had quite the reaction at the sight of her blood.

In fact, he fainted.

He dropped to the floor, out cold. He banged his head on the tub. Now she faced a double worry. What should she do about her hand, which was bleeding, heavily? What she do with him her boyfriend, out cold on the floor.

Could he have a concussion, she wondered aloud. Should she put him in the car and take both of them to the ER? My wife advised her to calm down and take things one-step at a time.

First, assess the injury. She had to remove the ligature from her palm, describe the wound and see how much it would bleed. She did and, her boyfriend, now recovering, went down he went again.

Thus, it was set up quite the comical re-creation. It was something from Laurel and Hardy or the Three Stooges movie. Every time she tried to talk about the injury and take care of her boyfriend, he keeled over once more.

My wife could hear him hitting the floor with each episode of fainting.

It took a while, but they finally sorted things out. She put a bandage on the wound, got her boyfriend in a chair and kept him conscious. They settled down for the night. Both of them would try to sleep and then assess their circumstances s in the morning.

We heard from them bright and early the next day, both text and call. He was driving her to a clinic to check out her hand and he was doing much better. Turned out, he did have a bit of a sore butt, due to all the times he passed out.

He made mention of the fact that, someday, when they had kids, it was clear was going to have to deal with any significant wounds the children might get. It was also highly doubtful he’d be in the delivery room.

She had four stitches and a couple of shots.

Once at the clinic, the doctors took good care of her. She had four stitches, a couple shots and she would be fine. It was quite the little episode for them both. In future, maybe they’ll keep the cat’s claws trimmed and some smelling salts handy.

You never know when she might get a nosebleed or a cut.

Combining the gimlet-eye, of Philip Roth, with the precisive mind of Lionel Trilling, AJ Robinson writes about what goes bump in the mind, of 21st century adults. Raised in Boston, with summers on Martha's Vineyard, AJ now lives in Florida. Most of the time he writes, but sometimes he works at Disney World to renew his fantasies and get a few dollars more. AJ writes, with insight and passion, about his family and his dog. His liberal, note the small "l," sensibilities often lead to bouts of righteous indignation, well focused and true.